I just needed to say that.
You know who you are, you who needed to hear it.
These days, by which I mean, since last Monday, each day, I wake up knowing that it will be a struggle between me and me to make myself practice. Some days, I get up, get dressed for practice, and then, after some internal debate decide that I don’t feel like driving to the shala after all. On those days, at some point, if I am very persuasive, I am able o force myself to practice at home. I do hope this mood passes soon. Perhaps it will pass when my body is less sore from the backbending work I’m doing. But this is really when I know that I am engaging in a discipline. I tell myself that I have to practice, even if it sucks, even if I hate it, because it’s just practice. I tell myself that even if it sucks, tomorrow might not suck, and there’s always tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow, to paraphrase William Faulkner.
Surprisingly, or maybe not surprisingly to those who have struggled with motivation issues while delving into Second Series, even as my motivation crumbles, my backbends are improving. I mean SERIOUSLY improving. Or at least it seemed that way today. Banner day today, really. Today, two things happened that rocked my backbendng world.
Thing One was that I discovered the internal rotation of my arms in Urdhva Dhanurasana. I know, it’s like, duh, hello, that’s what you’re supposed to be doing. But the thing is, I have never been able to connect with any sort of internal arm rotation while pressing up into UD, unless I have a belt strapped around my triceps. But today, as I pressed up, I pretended the belt was there, and I felt my chest lifting higher, and my wrists not crying out in pain. Muscles engaged. Locked and loaded.
Now, to feel my legs. You can no more force yourself to feel your legs when you can’t feel your legs than you can force yourself to relax by saying, “Just relax.” But I know that someday I will feel my legs. I think. I told myself today that I am going to give it at least five years before I get frustrated. Hmmm…..wonder if I can stick to that.
Thing Two was that in assisted dropbacks, Val did not really drop me back or lift me up at all. She merely put her hands on my hipbones and pressed my feet into the floor. It was the WILDEST sensation. Apparently, I need to wear cement shoes in order to drop back and stand up. Or, um….feel my legs maybe?
Maybe I will actully wake up wanting to go to practice, just to get that sensation again of having my feet firmly planted on the ground and using them as an anchor to float back and stand up. Maybe.
That would be choir practice. Yes, I have joined the choir at my place of worship. I’d been thinking about going to kirtan, and then I realized that if I can sing in a community, then I really should sing with the Jews. Because I actuallyam a Jew. Whereas, I am not Hindu or Indian. Shit, I mean, if I chant the invocation on a daily basis, shouldn’t I be able to sing Mi Chamocha once in a while?
I (secretly) refer to the choir as the Mommy Minion, since all of the members of the choir, pretty much, are moms. It’s not like the temple(s) we belonged to in the city, where there was such a wide age range within the congregation. Much of our congregation is under the age of 60, and in fact, much of the congregation is actually under the age of 20. Like my kids, for instance. And everyone else’s sets of two, three and four kids.
Isn’t it ironic, dontcha think, that my first choir performance is for tomorrow night’s Ecumenical Service with the Armonk Methodist Church? We’re singing with their choir. They are not a Mommy Minion. They’re kind of oldish and blue-hairish. But they have lovely soprano voices. My voice, which I have neglected for the past15 or so years, has dropped to a high alto. That’s fine. I don’t mind singing the harmony line.
I think my batteries are about to go, and I mean that both literally and figuratively. I’m on my laptop in bed. And it’s time to turn out the light.